Experimentation
by LA CSI Fan
Summary: A trifle suggested by the title sequence. GSR


Title:  Experimentation

Summary:  A trifle suggested by the title sequence.  GSR

A/N:   Thanks to all of you that were so gracious with the reviews of my last story.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Wish they were.

Sara strode down the hall towards the break room.  As she neared the door, she could hear Grissom's voice as he handed out assignments.  "Warrick, you've got a 407 at the Venetian.  Catherine, you and Nicky have got a DB at….Why Ms. Sidle, so nice of you to join us."

"Sorry.  Traffic on theTrop."  Sara gave as a way of an explanation.  Grissom regarded her for a moment longer, before returning to the task at hand.

"You guys, head over to the Four Queens on Fairmont.  One of the cage managers was found dead in a broom closet.  Sara, you're with me today.  I need your help with an experiment."

Sara mumbled an "Okay," trying to do her best to keep her expression neutral.  While she loved being out in the field collecting evidence, nothing beat several hours of experimentation with Grissom.  Testing the facts, volleying theories back and forth, matching wits with an intellect that more than met her own, and if she were really lucky, having to repeat the process several times until they were satisfied.  Life was good.

As the group left the room and headed down the hall to their various assignments, Nick nudged Sara and said, "Teacher's pet."

Sara merely rolled her eyes at him, as Catherine said, "C'mon Nicky.  Maybe Grissom will let you play with the big toys one day."  Nick laughed, as the pair followed Warrick towards the exit.

Sara followed Grissom into one of the layout rooms.  "So, what are working on?" she asked.  "Bugs?  Bombs?"

"Blood,"  Grissom answered.  "Related to the Castillo case from yesterday."

"Right, the guy with the head trauma."

"Exactly.  The ME was unable to determine what kind of instrument landed the fatal blow, so now it's up to us.  At first glance, it appears as if it was caused by a baseball bat; it's about the same circumference and depth, but it doesn't taper like those wounds caused by a bat.  There was also some sort of powder deposited on the wound.  Greg is currently analyzing it.  Plus, Robbins did find splinters of wood…"

"So we know it was a cylindrical wooden object, uniform in width, and able to withstand enough force to be used as a weapon.  Wooden dowel, handle of some sort, baluster…"  Grissom raised one eyebrow at the last one.  "What?  A stair baluster, especially one from an old house, could match dimensionally, and if it were made from a wood like oak…I saw it once in San Francisco."

At that, Grissom stepped aside, revealing a table full of cylindrical wooden objects, including one baluster.  Sara flashed a grin at him.

"Now," Grissom continued, "we've got the dummies set up.  Since we know the blow was landed with considerable force, we'll conduct the first set of experiments with the assumption that a man was the one wielding the weapon.  So, if you'll take notes and measurements, I'll…"

"…have all the fun?"  Sara smiled at him again.

Grissom looked at her with an owlish expression, and then turned away.  They donned their respective protective gear, including face shields.  Sara grabbed a clipboard and notebook, and began to make notations.  "Griss…" she got out, before all rational thought left her.

Not that.  Anything but that.  Sara could handle blood splatter and bug dissection, but nothing made her weak in the knees like the sight of Grissom rolling back his sleeves to bare his forearms.  She didn't know what it was about his hands and arms.  Maybe it was because it was the allure of seeing a body part that he normally kept hidden.  Maybe it was because they look too powerful for a man who spent all his time in a lab.  Maybe it was because she knew they were strong enough to restrain a suspect, get gentle enough to comfort a victim.  Maybe it was because she wanted him to take her in those arms, lay her down on the nearest horizontal surface, and…

"Sara?"

Sara gulped, "Um, what?"

"I said we'd start with the baseball bat, just to eliminate it."

"Okay."  Sara quickly took notes, while Grissom gripped the bat and proceeded to bring it down on the head of the first dummy.  Upon inspection and documentation of the impact, it was clear that the bat was not the weapon of choice.

"Hand me the axe handle."  As Grissom repeated the previous motion and began the comparison,   Sara's thoughts again began to wander.  Grissom draping his arm over her shoulders, casually signaling possession, as they strolled by the Bellagio fountain on a beautiful night…. 

Grissom's voice interrupted her thoughts, "That wasn't it.  The circumference is off by half a centimeter.  Next, we'll try the baluster."  Grissom repositioned a new dummy, and swung at it with the baluster.  Sara, meanwhile, had made a switch of her own.  Grissom, with those powerful arms, pushing her up against a wall.  His hands trailing up her legs to grasp her hips and pull her hard up against his arousal, as his mouth left searing kisses on her neck…

"Now the fence post."  Grissom pulling her close in an embrace.  She could feel the heat of his arm encircling her, as they proceeded to slow dance…

"Now the table leg."  Grissom scooping her up in his arms and carrying her into his bedroom.  He laid her down on the bed, and proceeded slowly removed all her clothes.   Grissom running his hand down her bare body, cupping her breast before lightly running down her stomach, and stopping just at the juncture of her thighs…

"Sara.  Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You look flushed and it sounded liked you just…just moaned."

"Um…I, ah….I'm fine.  I'm fine," she answered.

Grissom cast her sidelong glance, as if trying to decide whether or not to press the issue.  He must have settled on ignoring it, since he returned to the case at hand.  "Well, since nothing matched the blunt force trauma, we must not have the right object.  What are we missing?"

"Well," Sara said, trying to regain her composure and focus on what was going on in the real world.  "What else is basically a wood cylinder?"

At that moment, Greg came skidding into the room.  "Griss, that white powder of yours was flour.  Self-rising, if I'm not mistaken."

Grissom turned to Sara, who was already grinning.  "Rolling pin," they said, simultaneously.

************

"So, it turns out his wife is an amateur bodybuilder.  She found out he was cheating on her, and BAM, hit with a rolling pin," Sara finished.  "It's practically a cliché."

"Well, that sounds better than my robbery.  The oldest son pawned his mother's necklace to cover a drug debt.  The family's not pressing charges."  Warrick yawned.  "I'm outta here.  See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Warrick," Sara said as he left the break room.

Sara followed him, but wandered in the direction of Grissom's office.  Finding the door open, she stepped in to find Grissom seated behind his desk, catching up on paperwork.  "Hey," she said.  "I guess we shouldn't have assumed that a man was wielding the lethal weapon, but…"

"...but given the amount of force used, it was a natural assumption.  Besides, any faulty conclusion will eventually fail."  He paused and looked up, as she crossed the office to seat herself on his desk.  "But that's not the real mystery here.  I want to know what was running through your mind all night as we worked."  Grissom stood and moved in front of her, planting his hands on the desk on either side of her.  He leaned in closely, and said barely above a whisper.  "What was so compelling that distracted Sara Sidle during an experiment?"

Sara kept her head down, but began to run her hands up and down his still bare arms.  She turned her face to his, "Why don't I show you instead."  She closed the gap between them, and pressed her lips against his smirking mouth.  The kiss quickly turned carnal, as Sara moved her hands to clutch his hair and Grissom's hands found her waist.

Grissom broke the kiss, which left them both short of breath.  "Not here."  He stepped away, to allow Sara to get down from the desk.  As they gathered up their things and headed out the door, Grissom said, "Sorry about earlier today.  I guess I forgot to turn the alarm on again when I left."

"It's okay.  Just don't let it happen again.  I hear the boss can be a real bastard about repeated tardiness."  She smiled at him, as he shut off the lights and closed the office door behind them.


End file.
